Forever and Always
by Silvre and Vulpi
Summary: Arthur is invited to his boyfriend's annual Thanksgiving party after having a recent argument. What will he do? Shall the awesome pairing make up? Mostly fluff. One shot.


HELLO PEOPLE OF THIS UNIVERSE WHO HAVE CLICKED ON THIS LINK! This is Silvre. It was Thanksgiving and I love USUK (which is like totally awesome and well I felt the urge to write fluff. (Hopefully it's awesome fluff.) What is below the gray line of awesomeness is my combination of stuff. I tried to make it Thanksgiving oriented but it didn't work out that much. Hopefully you'll like it. Thanks for reading!

Btw Vulpi is busy so like don't be mad for any grammar issues please...I tried but I'm really not good at the grammar aspect of writing...thanks!

**IF YOU DON'T LIKE USUK THEN DO NOT READ! **

ALL THE AWESOME CHARACTERS BELOW BELONG TO THE AWESOME HIDEKAZ HIMARUYA WHO MADE HETALIA POSSIBLE  
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><p>A blonde-headed Brit paced in his study, muttering every few seconds. An invitation sat on his mahogany desk. In the moment, his bookshelves seemed to loom over him and the single window behind his desk lead in the ominous rays of the setting sun. He faced a most difficult decision. The invitation itself posed the very essence of his dilemma. In an almost childish lettering, upon it lay the exact message:<p>

_Whazzup dudes (and dudettes)?_

_I hereby invite you to the Thanksgiving party at my house!_

_On Thanksgiving starting at 7 pm!_

_Do come, we have hamburgers._

_From the one and only hero,_

_Alfred F. Jones_

The question: Should or should he not come? The invitee in question and him had gotten in an argument though he could no longer recall the reason. What a nerve he would have to have to go to his boyfriend's house for Thanksgiving after they were in an argument that had lasted a week already. The absolute nerve! It would be most improper. The man had spent quite some time on the question at hand and continued to pace with anguish. Abruptly he stopped. What the bloody hell? he thought, sick of his indecision. I might as well go. And that was the end of his problem and the beginning of his solution. Falling into his leather chair, he sighed softly and swiftly wrote a reply accepting the invitation before he could change his mind any longer to the troublesome Alfred F. Jones.

s S s

Arthur was late and in a most distressful state. To go when you're in the middle of a row and be late. Where did his pride end? he thought to himself, feeling quite ashamed. What would Alfred think when he saw him? The party was already on way when he arrived, the entire block in festive celebration. The laughter and shouts were so loud he could've heard them a mile away. He stopped himself from using his own key that he had used numerous times to open the very same door and hesitantly pushed the doorbell. Shifting his weight every few seconds, he waited hopefully for someone to open the door as he did not want to bust in. Surprised he found Kiku opening the door.

"Oh, Arthur-san please come in. I apologize that Alfred- san seems busy at the moment."

"It's perfectly fine. I am late after all." He replied feeling a tad embarrassed.

He walked in briskly. The walls were colored in glitter, streamers were flung everywhere. The music shook the walls. In the back the pool was covered in indignant screams from the occasional water gun fight. Arthur grinned slightly when all he could find to eat were hamburgers. When he walked outside though, his smile vanished. Francis was openly flirting with Alfred, though the idiot looked as if he did not notice. Turning quickly to get rid of the scene, he wasn't fast enough as Francis called out to him.

"Arthur! Over here!" The Frenchman practically shrieked these words across the noise. Arthur felt his cheeks fill with heat.

"Oh, Arthur you're already here." He flinched mentally when Alfred didn't call him by his usual nickname.

"Yes, there was some traffic and business I had to take of." He tried to act normally. "Well, I'm going to go and find some people. Thanks for inviting me."

"Well, then take care." Francis smiled and continued to flirt with Arthur's boyfriend. Alfred carried on as if he was never there. Feeling hurt, he left the conversation and somehow walked straight into Feliks.

"I'm sorry." he muttered. Feliks gave him a up and down glance.

"Oh my god, dear you totally look like you just got thrown in with the trash."

"Do I?" He tried again to act naturally. Peering behind him, Feliks sighed as if Arthur was the dumbest person on earth.

"Your boyfriend is totally getting hit on. What are you doing? And your outfit is totally unsqueal-worthy. This is a party not a business meeting!"

"Well, I was busy an-" He was cut off with a squeal from Feliks. "MAKEOVER!"

He was quickly dragged away by his arm. In other circumstances he would have snatched his arm back and called Feliks a bloody git, but after what happened outside his energy had all but vanished. Up the stairs and into one of Alfred's many huge guest rooms they went and he felt no need to stop the crazy little Polish boy who muttered fabulous every few minutes on their miniature journey. Feliks shut the door and the lighting made his eyes seem almost a bit crazy. He shivered and insisted it was the cold.

"Oh dear, you look totally depressed. You know if you didn't like, want to see him you shouldn't have come." The Pole dug in the closet and pulled out a huge trunk. Grinning he turned to Arthur, "I fabulously snuck it in. This will totes make you totally fabulous and make your boyfriend take a second look at you." He might have been unhappy being used as a dress-up toy but the hope of having Alfred look at him one more time was more than tempting.

s S s

Half an hour later, Feliks finally decided that his outfit was "absolutely, totally, fabulously, squeal-worthy". Pulling out a full length mirror, he forced Arthur to take a look at his handiwork. Arthur wore tight skinny jeans almost pitch black, a chain hung from his side, jingling everytime he moved. His shirt was almost as tight, midnight black with a wide collar. Feliks had pulled out black converses, forcing him to match his new clothes. His hair was naturally tousled slightly and Feliks's work with the makeup showed with the dark eyeliner around his eyes. His green eyes glowed slightly, almost unnaturally like a cats in the mist of night. He feared for Feliks's health for he seemed to be having a miniature heart attack at his new piece of art. Annoyance piled up but Arthur felt no need to change anything. "If you would excuse me…" Exiting the guest room, he winded down the halls to the pool where the music now also blared loudly. Snaking his way to the middle of the dance floor, he moved his body to the beat of the music. He felt multiple eyes on him but the bloody hell mattered? The bloody gits could stare all they want at his changed appearance decked in black. Tiring easily he moved along side the refreshments pausing to speak with Lukas about business matters. Gilbert, Francis and Antonio already drunken stepped over to him, their speech slurred. Shocked when Francis tried to flirt with him, he quickly dashed away so unlike himself, but it must of been the drink Feliks had handed him. Finding Ludwig, he passed along a warning for the German's drunk brother, laughing for some reason as he did. Ludwig shook his head and eyes widened at him in shock once he saw Arthur.

"Arthur, I think you're drunk. Perhaps if I can find Alfred…"

His anger flared for a moment and he lost himself. "Why would I need that bloody git?"

Ludwig raised his eyebrows. "Well, I did see him try to get to you on the dance floor. I just saw him over next to th-" He was cut off when Feliciano tugged Ludwig away. Sighing he went to find Alfred, even though he was mad at his oblivious boyfriend, he couldn't just ignore him forever. Swallowed into the crowds, he could barely move at his own will. He was pushed into Gilberts and Mathias by the bar, drinking to their hearts content. Jostling his drinks Mathias shouted, "Arthur...come drink with us!" Grinning from ear to ear, both the bloody gits forced him to down glass after glass, insisting that it was an "awesome experience". The atmosphere of the mad party made him invaded his senses, and he soon forgot about Alfred.

s S s

Rays of sunlight peeked out of the window, Arthur shifted his weight on the bed. Wait, what bed? Shooting straight up with shock, he found himself in Alfred's largest bedroom. Alfred's shadow casted over him, it's owner standing before the window. Trying to stand up, he realized he couldn't. His ridiculous clothes were still the same and the makeup stayed. Silently cursing the bloody fools who made him drink such an extravagant amount of alcohol, he tried to find a way out without confronting his angry boyfriend. Alas that was not to be so as something in the goddamned house creaked, signaling that the Brit was awake. Alfred whipped around immediately. He studied his boyfriend quickly as this might be the very last time. A rare glare enveloped his face but everything else seemed as usual. A different outfit from the night before but still the same sapphire blue eyes and the same endearing strand of hair still stuck up. Oh how he loved his stupid idiotic American. Remorse filled him but he waited for Alfred to say something for he could not break the unbearable silence that occupied the room.

"Arthur Kirkland. You…" Alfred trailed off, fuming. Arthur shivered slightly at the possibilities this conversation could lead to. He quietly began a speech he had composed in the few seconds he had before Alfred had spoken. His voice shook slightly. How he hated it.

"I-I'm sorry. I understand if you want to…" He couldn't finish. Tears pricked his eyes, and he fought the urge to embarrass himself anymore. Alfred's eyes softened at the threatening tears.

"Artie, I'm sorry. I was just a bit...well...ummm…" His face turned extremely red. Arthur waited for him to continue, turning a tad crimson himself. "Artie it's just the Polish makeover. You looked so goddamned hot. Gilbert and Francis were hitting on you. God, even the drunken Antonio was flirting and you know how much he adores Romano. If I hadn't carried you up here, I don't know what they would've done. Sorry." He felt heat rise in his cheeks.

"Feliks is quite the stylist isn't he?" he asked to fill up the space and avoid the main conflict at hand. He stared down at his hands. Alfred looked exasperated.

"Artie quit trying to change the subject. I love you. I'm sorry for that fight but I want you to come back. You avoided me for weeks. I miss you. Please." The American gazed tenderly at his love, pleading with eyes for his love to be returned. No words were needed. Arthur pulled the idiot into his arms, wrapping him in a giant hug. How he had missed him. He felt Alfred nuzzle his neck slightly and kiss him. Radiating happiness, Arthur whispered something secretly in Alfred's ear. Murmuring back, the American boy smiled a smile with enough joy that would last eternity, "Forever and always. Forever and always."

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><p>Thanks for reading! I hope you liked it. Please commentreview!

One last thing...Aren't Feliks' makeovers fabulous? ;)

I hear they do wonders. Wish I could have one. :)


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